Ailamera
(#13281333)
Level 1 Fae
Kevin
Raptorik Herder
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Nature.
Female Fae
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
1.31 m
Wingspan
0.96 m
Weight
3.06 kg
Genetics
Caramel
Falcon
Falcon
Eldritch
Spinner
Spinner
Emerald
Runes
Runes
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Fae
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
5
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
6
INT
8
VIT
5
MND
8
Biography
Clan Role: Aerial surveillance for her mate Mangrove on his patrol
Ailamera was among the first dragon residents of the Driftwood Clan. Back in the clan's infancy, she sought refuge in its borders from Beastclan fighting that had broken out in the forests where she used to live. She was kept safe, but she didn't feel like she belonged or fit in. She wasn't exactly a gorgeous dragon, and she was keenly aware of this. No one ever told her that she was ugly. They didn't have to. She could feel it. It was practically tangible, the way they looked at her.
After only having been with the clan for a couple of weeks, she abandoned it. The only way she thought that she could gain honor and importance was by serving in the exalted ranks under the Gladekeeper's guidance. Such dragons, regardless of ugliness or beauty, were all given important roles to play in maintaining their world. Every dragon had a place in the Gladekeeper's branches.
But once there, almost as soon as she received her tasks, she began to feel pangs of sadness. She did miss the clan. It was so peaceful, and Larimar would sometimes tell stories, and she would spend afternoons perched high up in the canopy just watching the clouds go by. It was a paradise. But, as she kept telling herself, it was a paradise that didn't want or need her. These thoughts echoed in her mind over and over again, repeating themselves for months. Her work as a messenger for Nature's dragons took her all over the world, to all manner of beautiful landscapes and friendly company. However, none of these felt nearly as peaceful and perfect as the home she so briefly knew.
One day, after having delivered all the messages she had, she began a flight back to one of the hubs where she typically reported to. On the second night along the way, she curled up in the boughs of a great tree, finally broken down to tears from homesickness. This wasn't where she was meant to be. She wanted to be back home, in her forest, surrounded by the trees she knew so well, staring up at the stars and clouds again.
As sleep finally began to overtake her senses, she was startled by a presence. It wasn't a noise, or a sudden movement. It was simply a feeling of something being there. Something vast and incomprehensible. It wasn't a dragon... or... was it? She couldn't tell what it was.
When she opened her eyes, she froze in shock, an electric tingling flowing down her spine. There, so close she could reach out and touch it, was the eye of the Gladekeeper herself.
No words were exchanged. There was simply that one moment, a moment that stretched seemingly into infinity, where god and dragon beheld each other. Then as suddenly as it happened, the moment ended, and the Gladekeeper vanished. Ailamera sat up, breathless. She reached for her messenger bag, and to her continued astonishment, found that it was no longer there. Or anywhere. Not in the tree, not fallen to the ground. No matter where she looked. She realized that it had disappeared just like the Gladekeeper. A feeling dawned on her of blessing and freedom. Somehow, she knew what this all meant. She was supposed to return home.
She made her way, sometimes with hesitation, other times with boundless joy, towards the forest she loved. The days of the journey melted into mere hours. When she finally arrived, much had changed, but there was still the same piece of driftwood hanging over the main entrance, and the same dappled blotches of sunlight casting their patterns on the forest floor. She wondered if anyone would remember her. She fluttered through the clan, searching for her old lair among all the new faces and bustling activity.
Suddenly, a lumbering Guardian blocked her way. Larimar bent down as she hovered low in the air. "Hello there! And who would you be, visitor?"
Ailamera's heart sank. Not even the clan leader remembered her. "I'm Ailamera. Don't you remember me?"
The Guardian looked shocked. "Oh, sorry, er... You don't... Um... Have you looked in a mirror recently?"
"No..." she replied. Larimar scratched his beard, his face contorted into an embarrassed panic.
"You, um... I could swear you were a kind of dark grey and pink last time I saw you," he explained.
"Well, yeah, that's what I look like," Ailamera replied, the crests on her head dictating her confusion.
"Why don't you sit down and take a look at yourself, closely," Larimar suggested. He continued to fidget with his beard.
"Oka... what in the name of Sornieth?" Turning her flexible neck this way and that to look at her wings and body, she began to rub at her scales, hardly believing what she was seeing. She used to be as Larimar said, dark grey with bright pink wings, but now her body was an earthy brown and her wings a deep, dark green. How was this possible?
"So it's not just me, that's good," Larimar sighed. "You look like Nature itself, in those colors. Must have had some pretty interesting adventures out there. We were worried about you, you know. You took off without saying anything."
Ailamera's crests fell. "I'm sorry, I just..."
"I know. I'm sorry if we made you feel awkward here. We never wanted you to feel that way. We never wanted you to go." Larimar extended a paw, lifting her chin. "Welcome back home. We hope you'll stay."
Ailamera was among the first dragon residents of the Driftwood Clan. Back in the clan's infancy, she sought refuge in its borders from Beastclan fighting that had broken out in the forests where she used to live. She was kept safe, but she didn't feel like she belonged or fit in. She wasn't exactly a gorgeous dragon, and she was keenly aware of this. No one ever told her that she was ugly. They didn't have to. She could feel it. It was practically tangible, the way they looked at her.
After only having been with the clan for a couple of weeks, she abandoned it. The only way she thought that she could gain honor and importance was by serving in the exalted ranks under the Gladekeeper's guidance. Such dragons, regardless of ugliness or beauty, were all given important roles to play in maintaining their world. Every dragon had a place in the Gladekeeper's branches.
But once there, almost as soon as she received her tasks, she began to feel pangs of sadness. She did miss the clan. It was so peaceful, and Larimar would sometimes tell stories, and she would spend afternoons perched high up in the canopy just watching the clouds go by. It was a paradise. But, as she kept telling herself, it was a paradise that didn't want or need her. These thoughts echoed in her mind over and over again, repeating themselves for months. Her work as a messenger for Nature's dragons took her all over the world, to all manner of beautiful landscapes and friendly company. However, none of these felt nearly as peaceful and perfect as the home she so briefly knew.
One day, after having delivered all the messages she had, she began a flight back to one of the hubs where she typically reported to. On the second night along the way, she curled up in the boughs of a great tree, finally broken down to tears from homesickness. This wasn't where she was meant to be. She wanted to be back home, in her forest, surrounded by the trees she knew so well, staring up at the stars and clouds again.
As sleep finally began to overtake her senses, she was startled by a presence. It wasn't a noise, or a sudden movement. It was simply a feeling of something being there. Something vast and incomprehensible. It wasn't a dragon... or... was it? She couldn't tell what it was.
When she opened her eyes, she froze in shock, an electric tingling flowing down her spine. There, so close she could reach out and touch it, was the eye of the Gladekeeper herself.
No words were exchanged. There was simply that one moment, a moment that stretched seemingly into infinity, where god and dragon beheld each other. Then as suddenly as it happened, the moment ended, and the Gladekeeper vanished. Ailamera sat up, breathless. She reached for her messenger bag, and to her continued astonishment, found that it was no longer there. Or anywhere. Not in the tree, not fallen to the ground. No matter where she looked. She realized that it had disappeared just like the Gladekeeper. A feeling dawned on her of blessing and freedom. Somehow, she knew what this all meant. She was supposed to return home.
She made her way, sometimes with hesitation, other times with boundless joy, towards the forest she loved. The days of the journey melted into mere hours. When she finally arrived, much had changed, but there was still the same piece of driftwood hanging over the main entrance, and the same dappled blotches of sunlight casting their patterns on the forest floor. She wondered if anyone would remember her. She fluttered through the clan, searching for her old lair among all the new faces and bustling activity.
Suddenly, a lumbering Guardian blocked her way. Larimar bent down as she hovered low in the air. "Hello there! And who would you be, visitor?"
Ailamera's heart sank. Not even the clan leader remembered her. "I'm Ailamera. Don't you remember me?"
The Guardian looked shocked. "Oh, sorry, er... You don't... Um... Have you looked in a mirror recently?"
"No..." she replied. Larimar scratched his beard, his face contorted into an embarrassed panic.
"You, um... I could swear you were a kind of dark grey and pink last time I saw you," he explained.
"Well, yeah, that's what I look like," Ailamera replied, the crests on her head dictating her confusion.
"Why don't you sit down and take a look at yourself, closely," Larimar suggested. He continued to fidget with his beard.
"Oka... what in the name of Sornieth?" Turning her flexible neck this way and that to look at her wings and body, she began to rub at her scales, hardly believing what she was seeing. She used to be as Larimar said, dark grey with bright pink wings, but now her body was an earthy brown and her wings a deep, dark green. How was this possible?
"So it's not just me, that's good," Larimar sighed. "You look like Nature itself, in those colors. Must have had some pretty interesting adventures out there. We were worried about you, you know. You took off without saying anything."
Ailamera's crests fell. "I'm sorry, I just..."
"I know. I'm sorry if we made you feel awkward here. We never wanted you to feel that way. We never wanted you to go." Larimar extended a paw, lifting her chin. "Welcome back home. We hope you'll stay."
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Exalting Ailamera to the service of the Gladekeeper will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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